


Hold It

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Septiplier Watersports Adventures [1]
Category: jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bedwetting, Established Relationship, Holding, Humiliation, M/M, Omoroshi, Pants wetting, Riding, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 02:58:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11244918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Mark has a kink.Jack might be a bit into it.





	Hold It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Banjogoat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banjogoat/gifts).



> Edited by the ever lovely Angel!

“I want to do something new,” Jack said, as he lay on his belly beside Mark, Mark’s sweat still drying on his body.

Mark, flat on his back, his cock still tender from the riding that Jack had just given it, shot him a sidelong look, one eyebrow up.

“Can you give me a chance to catch my breath, maybe?” He kept his tone humorous, although his anxiety was starting to spike. 

Shit.

Was Jack getting bored with him?

He’d worried about that, when they had gotten together, but… well, he hadn’t thought it would happen so fast. 

Jack snorted, poking Mark in the side.

“What kinda weird kinky shit is circling around in that head of yours?”

“Hm?”

Mark’s heart was beating faster.

“ _Nobody_ is as vanilla as you are,” Jack said, his tone authoritative. Then he paused. “Actually, no, shit, that came off as kinda cunty, sorry.”

“I’m sorry, you’re throwing around words like cunty now?” Mark shoved Jack. “Or is dirty language some kind of weird kinky shit that you’ve been hiding from me?”

Jack snorted.

“I don’t think we’ve hidden the dirty language from each other,” Jack said, “mister, “please ride my dick and rub your hot cum all over my chest”.”

Mark groaned, rolling onto his stomach as well and burying his face into his pillow.

“How can you remember that shit?” Mark demanded, his voice muffled. “That’s mid-sex talk. Mid-sex talk doesn’t count.”

“What, if I told you that I was gonna go assassinate the president of Mongolia while I was fucking your sweet ass, it wouldn’t count?” 

“Does Mongolia even have a president?” 

“I dunno. Maybe someone assassinated him.”

Mark rolled his eyes, and he shoved Jack in the side again, then moved his hand lower, to trace the long, lean line of his flank, then gave his ass a squeeze, because he could. 

“Regardless,” said Jack, “mid-sex talk totally counts. Especially when it’s shit I wanna keep for my own spank bank.”

“What, you jerk off to me?” 

That was… genuinely flabbergasting.

He was just Mark. Why would Jack be jerking off to him?

“I have literally just finished riding your dick,” Jack said, his voice halfway to irritated. “I like fucking you, sucking you, being fucked and being sucked by you, I like doing stupid corny shit like making dinner together, and I like you in general. Of course I jerk off to you!”

Mark snickered, but he wrapped an arm around Jack’s middle, pulling him closer, nuzzling into Jack’s neck, which was warm and smelled like Jack’s cologne, his shampoo, and like himself. 

“Well, okay, jerking off doesn’t count either,” said Mark, and he kissed Jack loudly on the temple, loud enough that Jack made a face, his ear no doubt ringing. 

“So what weird fetishes do you have hidden?” 

“I like seeing people wear lingerie?”

“So does everyone,” said Jack, his tone dismissive. 

“I… think biting is hot?”

“That’s barely a fetish,” said Jack.

Mark rolled his eyes, his forehead pressing into Jack’s temple. 

He could admit to… well, that one weird thing. 

But that was a bit… too weird.

“What’s one of yours?”

“I’ve told you all of mine,” said Jack. 

“No you haven’t,” said Mark. 

“Well, okay, I think I have. Which ones did I tell you about?”

“You like Topping,” said Mark.

“I like Domming,” Jack corrected.

“What’s the difference?”

“If I say I like Topping, people assume I don’t want any of that sweet back door loving,” said Jack, his voice completely deadpan.

Mark burst out laughing.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” 

“It’s true though,” said Jack. “If I walked in and was all “‘sup, I’m into Topping,” everyone would just expect me to want to stick my dick in everything, when that’s not how it works!”

“Who is “everyone” in this scenario?”

“I dunno. The collective consciousness of people who aren’t having heterosexual sex with the lights off,” said Jack.

“If they’re the collective consciousness, wouldn’t the know what you mean when you say you like Topping?”

“You’re thinking too much into this,” said Jack. 

“I am not,” Mark said, indignant. “You’re the one who seems convinced that people will only want you to do them up the butt if you say you like to top.”

“It happened to me a few times,” said Jack. “With dudes and chicks and folks who aren’t in either category.”

“What, you bent over with your delicious booty -”

“Urrgh, you’re making me sound like something dug up by a pirate -”

“And they said “Alas, I cannot plunder it, for I am not a Top”?” 

“And again with the pirates,” said Jack, and he kissed Mark.

It was a sweet kiss, and it lasted almost a minute, as Mark savored the warmth of Jack’s lips, which were soft and familiar against his own. 

Then he pulled back, and he was blushing.

“Well,” said Mark, and he let the one syllable hang in the air for two minutes, as he shifted to get more comfortable, and to make this whole conversation less weird. 

.. it wasn’t going to work, but a man can always hope. 

“Well?”

“I… might have a bit of a kink,” said Mark. “But you wouldn’t have to do anything with it. Since you’re obviously not into it.”

“How can you tell if I’m into it or not, if you haven’t told me what it is?”

Jack’s tone was teasing, but there was a bit of impatience mixed in there. 

“You don’t seem like the… type who’d be into that,” said Mark carefully.

“What, I’m not cool enough for your special coolkid fetish?”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” said Mark. “It’s just that… it’s gross as hell, and you’re not gross.”

“Are you kidding? I’m fucking disgusting!” Jack’s accent came out especially thick on the last word, and he was chuckling - or maybe he was just amused by the idea that anyone would think he wasn’t gross.

“Well, okay, you’re… your own special brand of something or other,” said Mark.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’ve got a special quality that is downright effervescent,” said Mark, keeping his tone dead serious, “but it’s hard to put into words.”

“Aren’t you the flatterer,” said Jack. “I feel like you’re trying to distract me.”

“I’m not trying to distract you,” Mark said. “I’m just trying to figure out a way to word this.”

“Just tell me,” said Jack. “I’ve known people with _all sorts_ of fetishes.” He paused. “Except cake farts. I don’t know anyone who’s into cake farts.”

“That you know of,” Mark pointed out.

“What, are you into cake farts?” Jack sounded genuinely surprised. “I mean, uh, more power to you.”

“I’m not into cake farts,” Mark said, exasperated. 

“So what are you into?”

“I like pee,” Mark blurted out.

“Like, in general?” 

Jack sounded a little nonplussed, but not scandalized.

“What do you mean?”

That… hadn’t been the response that Mark had expected.

He wasn’t sure what response he had expected, honestly. 

“Like… do you like piss in general? Would you wanna take a bath in a bunch of piss as donated by a bunch of people?”

“... no,” said Mark, and he wrinkled his nose. “God no.”

“So you only like… your own piss? Piss as donated by a single participant?”

“Piss from someone I… you know, care about.” Mark blushed, looking down.

“Right,” said Jack. He didn’t sound grossed out in the slightest, which was… unexpected.

“You’re not shocked?”

 

“That isn’t exactly a rare fetish,” said Jack, shrugging. He rolled onto his back, his hands behind his back. “I was worried you’d be into something… I dunno. Expensive.”

“Expensive?”

“Like rope. Rope isn’t cheap. Or pony play. I knew a girl who was into pony play, she had gear that was worth more than my _car_!” 

“... so it’s okay that I like piss?”

“‘Course it’s okay,” said Jack, and he sounded genuinely surprised. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I dunno,” said Mark. “Because it’s gross and weird?”

Jack shrugged. 

“Could you tell me more about what you like? Since it’s obviously more than just piss in and of itself?”

“Sure, if you’d wanna hear,” said Mark.

“Of course I wanna hear it,” said Jack. “I did ask you.”

Mark snorted, and he rolled onto his back as well. 

It was easier to talk, when he wasn’t staring into the pillows. 

“I’d like to… I’d like someone to like… piss on me. On my head. And on my face. And I’d like someone to make me… you know, hold it.”

“Like… it’s not the piss itself that gets you off in that case, it’s the act of holding it?” 

“Something like that,” said Mark, and he groaned, covering his face, but continuing to speak. “I’d like… I’d like for someone to make me… piss my pants. Maybe make fun of me for it.” 

“Huh,” said Jack. 

“... I like watching people pee,” said Mark, his face still covered. “I mean, it’s not like I… go out of my way to see it, but I’ve been known to… you know, watch it. On videos.”

“Ever jerked off to it?” 

“... yeah.”

Jack rolled over, so that his chin was digging into Mark’s chest. 

“That’s adorable,” he told Mark.

“What? Why?”

“All this time you’ve been watching videos like that, and I could’ve given you a show just by keeping the door to the bathroom open.”

Mark groaned.

“It’s… creepy, if the other person doesn’t know that I’m watching. Or that I’m… you know, _watching_ , if you get my meaning.”

“I don’t really get your meaning,” Jack said. 

“I mean, like, there’s a difference between watching someone who’s naked because you’re in a room and you’re naked, versus like...being a creep about it. Looking at someone being naked because it makes you horny.”

“... fair enough,” said Jack. “I mean, I think I get that.” Then he grinned. “But now I can piss with the door open, because we won’t have that problem.”

“... we won’t?”

“Well,” said Jack, “I know that you’ll be getting off to it, so it won’t be like you’re creeping on me, and you’ll know that I know, so you won’t feel guilty about it.”

“You’d change your bathroom habits just so that I could indulge in my weird, creepy fetish?”

“It’s not that creepy,” said Jack. 

“You don’t think so?” 

“Nah,” said Jack. “It’s… kinda gross, but I mean, you literally just had your dick up my ass, and I shit through there, so really, how gross is it?”

“You clean your ass up beforehand,” Mark pointed out. “It’s not exactly the same thing.”

“Still,” said Jack. “It’s not that weird, and it’s not even that gross, all things considered. It’s just a thing.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m gonna ask you to actually do anything with it,” Mark said hurriedly. “Nothing beyond your comfort levels, I promise.”

“I mean,” Jack said, “I’ll be really honest and say that I’ve never really thought of that?”

“What, really?”

That was an… alien concept to Mark.

He’d been masturbating to this stuff pretty much since he started masturbating. The idea of someone _not_ finding it sexy - or never even thinking of it! - was a pretty alien concept. 

“I mean, I’ve known folks who were into it, but none of them were like… into it into it, if that makes sense. Like, I dated this one girl, and she was super into feet, and she peed on my lap once, and it was okay, I guess, but she was much more into when I sucked on her toes.”

“What, really?”

Mark was aware he sounded like a broken record.

He didn’t know how to stop.

“Honestly, that was kind of an accident. She was _super_ drunk at the time, and I think she didn’t realize that she had to go until she was actually… you know, going.” 

“And then she peed on you.”

“And then she peed on me.”

“... did you like it?”

“I would’ve liked it a lot more if I wasn’t sitting on a fabric sofa at the time,” said Jack. 

“... what, really?” 

“I mean, the look on her face was pretty hot,” said Jack. “But then I had to clean the couch.” 

“Why would you do water sports stuff on the couch?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be water sports stuff,” said Jack, in his best “no, duh!” voice. “It was just her peeing on me.”

“So you don’t want to be peed on?”

 

“I mean, I’d wanna do it on, like, hardwood,” said Jack, in a thoughtful voice. “But otherwise… I’m game for whatever, man.” 

“Whatever-whatever?”

“No cake farting,” said Jack.

“You’re awfully emphatic about that,” said Mark. “What do you have against cake farting?”

“It’s a waste of cake,” said Jack. “I love cake. Why would I want a cake that was farted on?”

“I mean -”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” said Jack quickly. 

“You don’t wanna know what I was gonna say?”

“I really, really don’t,” said Jack. 

Mark snorted.

Jack stuck his tongue out.

And things were… okay.

They were a little scary, because admitting your big weird fetish is always kind of terrifying, but they were going to be okay.

* * * 

“So I’ve got an awkward question,” said Jack, about a week later. 

It had been a busy week - they’d all been running around like chickens without heads, since everything was happening at once, or so it seemed. 

Jack’s computer had thrown a temper tantrum, and Mark had done three live shows, and the two of them were generally too tired to do much of anything weird or fun or kinky.

But they’d finally recovered.

More or less.

“What kinda awkward question?”

“When we were talking about fetishes, and you mentioned you’ve got a thing for piss and whatnot?”

“... yeah?”

They were both sprawled out on the couch, their feet up on the coffee table, Mark’s eyes half closed, Jack fiddling with his phone the way he always did. 

“Well, would you wanna do anything with that?”

“What, really?”

“Why not?”

“I thought you said it was gross,” Mark said.

Why was he getting defensive?

It wasn’t like Jack was making fun of him - it wasn’t like he’d ever even told anyone about this stuff.

So why was he expecting such an adverse reaction?

“I said I don’t wanna do it on the soft furnishings,” said Jack. “Although….” He got a contemplative look.

“Although?”

“Well, they do make plastic sheets for beds, right?” 

“I thought they were rubber,” said Mark.

“Well, regardless,” said Jack. “They make special sheets for bedwetters, right? Shouldn’t there be ones that protect, like, couches?”

“I think those are slipcovers, Jack.”

“Huh,” said Jack. “So if you wanted to piss your pants on the couch we’d have to make it look like a grandma couch?”

“Slipcovers are a grandma thing in Ireland?”

“Slipcovers are a grandma thing in every part of the world,” Jack said, with some authority.

“Because you’ve traveled the whole world and talked to grandmas?”

“Obviously,” said Jack, and he shoved Mark in the side. Then - “do you want me to control your bathroom use?”

“What, like, when I can shave?” 

Mark was stalling.

He knew he was stalling.

He had a feeling that Jack knew that he was stalling, although then it would start getting confusing and recursive. 

“You can’t piss unless I tell you to, starting tomorrow,” said Jack, in a voice that he probably thought was authoritative. 

“What, at all?”

“At all,” said Jack. “If you end up pissing your pants, then… then you’ll be in trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“The kind that’s trouble,” said Jack. 

“I mean more we need to negotiate what we’re gonna do if it goes wrong,” said Mark, trying to keep his voice gentle.

“... right. Duh.” Jack slapped himself on the forehead, looking sheepish. “Sorry. Sometimes I get kinda caught up in the whole big tough Dom persona, and I forget that, you know, people actually need to do stuff in a certain way.”

“ _That_ was your big tough Dom persona? Somehow I doubt that you’re that much of a Dom.” 

“Oh yeah?” Jack shot Mark a look, and there was something that was a cousin to dangerous in it.

“Totally,” said Mark, and now he was smirking. “I could bench press you. One handed.”

“You wanna give that a shot? I know you’ve got a weight lifting bench somewhere.”

Mark snorted.

“No thanks,” he said. “So, uh… what kinda punishment?”

“... I figured something pee related, honestly,” said Jack.

“Just don’t pee in my mouth, please.” 

“Fair enough,” said Jack. “But otherwise…?”

“Uh… no open wounds?”

“How would you get open wounds from… you know what, I don’t even wanna know,” said Jack. “But I get the picture.”

“So when do I have to start holding it?”

“Tomorrow,” said Jack. “Since we’re both taking the day off.”

“I thought we were gonna take the day off to have fun sexy times and relax?”

“So? This is totally fun sexy times and relaxing,” said Jack.

“... fair enough,” said Mark, and tried not to blush any harder than he already was.

* * *

He woke up at five in the morning, because he had to pee.

… it wasn’t tomorrow yet, right?

He was stealthy enough walking to the bathroom, but when he came back into the bedroom, he stepped on a floorboard, and it squealed.

“What happened to wanting to do a hold?” Jack’s voice was sleepy, and his hair was tousled as he sat up.

“You said starting tomorrow,” Mark said. “It’s not tomorrow yet.” 

“Tomorrow started at midnight,” said Jack.

Mark flopped back into the bed, belly down, his face in the pillow.

“You didn’t complain about me going to pee right before we went to bed, and that was after midnight,” Mark pointed out, burrowing into the pillows, shoving his hands under it. 

“Shut up with your logic,” Jack said. “If you go pee again I’ll punish you.”

“But my logic is -”

A pillow hit the back of Mark’s head.

Mark grinned.

* * *

Mark woke up having to piss like a racehorse, with a boner that could have been used as a drill.

Although obviously not, because his dick didn’t rotate.

But what would it be like if dicks _did_ rotate?

“Hey Jack?”

“Mmm?”

“What would it be like if dicks rotated like drills?”

Jack, still sleepy eyed and with a pillow crease along one cheek, sat up enough to give him a Look.

“The fuck is going on in your head? Because I’ve got no goddamn clue.”

“Neither do I, half the time,” Mark admitted.

“At least we’re on the same page,” Jack said, his tone amicable. 

“So can I go to the bathroom?”

“I dunno,” said Jack. “How badly do you have to go?”

“Um… pretty badly?” 

Mark was on his tummy, and he was starting to grind against the bed, biting his lip.

His face was turning pink, although was he embarrassed to ask to go to the bathroom, or was he embarrassed to be humping the bed like a horny teenage boy? 

“Scale of one to ten?”

“... eight?”

“Then you don’t need to go that badly,” Jack said casually.

Too casually.

Mark glanced over, and Jack’s own hips were rocking forward, grinding his cock into the bed. 

“I’m gonna piss the bed if I’m not, like… careful,” Mark said, and he tried to keep his tone light.

“You want me to put you in nappies? Make you sleep on a plastic sheet?”

… why did that sound kind of appealing?

Shit, was he ending up with some other kind of weird fetish?

But he wasn’t going to poke that just now.

“I just want to piss,” Mark said, and he tried to keep the whine out of his voice.

“You don’t sound desperate enough,” said Jack. “And you didn’t really answer my question, did you?”

“... plastic sheets would be uncomfortable,” said Mark.

“I notice that you didn’t say anything about the nappies,” Jack teased. 

“... can we put a pin in that and talk about it at a later date?”

“A nappy pin?” Jack waggled his eyebrows.

Mark rolled his eyes, and he elbowed Jack in the side.

Jack made an indignant noise, and he shoved Mark in the side.

Mark made an indignant noise - he hadn’t been expecting that.

His bladder was protesting. 

A lot.

“Oh, fuck,” Mark moaned, and he had to fight the urge to grab between his legs.

Crap.

“What’s wrong?” 

Jack’s voice, the very picture of innocence. 

“Jack, _please_ ,” Mark said, his voice rough. 

“Please what?”

“Please, I need to….”

“You need to?”

“I need to _pee_ ,” Mark said, and his voice broke. 

And then it stopped being a thing he could ask for, and he more or less rolled off of the bed, sitting on the hardwood, his hands firmly between his legs, squeezing his dick like a stress ball.

It didn’t help.

It didn’t help at all, and he was just pissing now, soaking the crotch of his pajama pants, his hands, even the cuffs, where they were trapped under him.

“Mark,” said Jack, poking his head over the bed, “did you just pee yourself?”

“... possibly,” said Mark. 

He wanted to draw this out, as much as possible. 

Although he wasn’t sure why, or even how.

Fucking… stupid early morning horny kink brain.

“I feel like this is a yes or no question,” said Jack, and now he was sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Mark. “Holly got drunk once and told me that sometimes she’s not sure if she peed herself after she sneezed or not.”

“You didn’t sneeze,” Jack pointed out. 

“Well, no,” said Mark. “But I did get a shock to the system.”

“Also,” said Jack, and he was positively _gloating_ now, which wasn’t a good look on him, “you’ve got a different… set up than Holly has.”

“I might not,” Mark said, defensive.

“None of that has anything to do with the fact that you’re sitting in a puddle,” said Jack. 

“... it could?”

He was grasping at straws.

Why was he so anxious?

Why was he so _horny_? 

Why wouldn’t his goddamn brain shut up?

“Mark,” Jack said sharply. “Stand up.”

Mark stood up.

There was a lot of piss dripping down his legs, soaking into his pants.

It was… well, it was a mess.

A gross, gross mess. 

“Mark,” Jack said. “Take your pants off.”

Mark let them drop into the puddle.

They immediately started to absorb more of the piss.

“Now,” said Jack, “I’m going to get out of bed, and you’re gonna stay in one place. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“And then… well, we’ll see.” 

Jack smiled at Mark, and it was a smile with a few too many teeth.

* * * 

They did indeed see.

More specifically, Mark saw.

Mark saw Jack pull his pajama pants on, and then Mark was being herded into the bathroom, instructed to stand in the bathtub.

“I’m going to mop up and put your pants in the washing machine,” said Jack. “I want you to stay there, hands on the wall, until I tell you to move.”

Mark turned around wordlessly, put his hands up on the wall.

He stared at the beige tiles, a few inches from his nose, and he tried not to think about whatever it was that Jack was planning for him.

The piss, which had been hot on his legs, was now turning cold, and his cock was still hard, pressing against the cold wall, smearing pre. 

And he kept waiting.

And waiting. 

He heard the noises of Jack cleaning up - he was whistling, he was talking to himself, at one point he yelled at Chica to stay out of a puddle, and then he was downstairs, making quiet noises, presumably putting stuff in the laundry.

Mark just sort of… drifted. 

He was aware of his body - the goosebumps, the fact that he still hadn’t taken his shirt off, the way the dry piss was stiff against his skin, almost stinging.

But it was a long way off, so who cared?

Until a hand came flashing out, hitting his ass, and _then_ it most definitely mattered.

Mark yowled like an angry cat, jerking forward, and the tile was cold on his dick, the handprint on his ass was beginning to throb, and he didn’t know how to stay still, because it was twitchy, it was making him itch, he was trying to stay still and his hands were in fists, but he was staying completely still. 

“So now you’re gonna actually beg like ya mean it,” said Jack, and he slapped Mark’s other ass cheek.

Mark made a strangled noise, biting his lip and trying to stay still, then sagging against the tile when Jack’s whiskery face was kissing along the back of his neck.

“It’s okay,” said Jack. “You’re forgiven.” 

“So I can take a shower now?”

“In a minute,” said Jack.

“Can I turn around?”

“That you can do.”

“Thank you,” said Mark and he turned around, pressing his overheated butt against the cold tile.

Who even knew that Jack could hit that hard, with his scrawny noodle arms? 

The bathroom wall was nice, at least.

Jack was doing his usual morning stuff - he yawned, and he shoved his pants around his thighs, fishing his cock out and aiming it at the toilet. He widened his stance and pulled his foreskin back enough to reveal the head of his cock. Mark’s heart was pounding very loudly in his ears.

Jack was pissing in front of him. 

Just full on pissing, as if he was by himself, one hand holding his dick, the other one at his side. 

He was staring at himself dazedly in the mirror, and he kept yawning. 

It wasn’t even some naughty thing - it was so normal that it shook Mark to the very core of his being.

Well, no, tell a lie, it mainly just made him even hornier, more pre dripping down his dick. 

But still.

He hadn’t been able to imagine Jack every getting that comfortable around him. Let alone Jack just letting him watch.

“Fuck that felt good,” Jack said, shaking his dick off, dabbing the end of it with a piece of toilet paper, then letting his foreskin back down, to cover the head again. 

“Yeah?” Mark licked his lips.

“Did it look good?” Jack glanced down at Mark, and he looked… almost shy, which was unexpected, but then again, pissing in front of someone else is a kind of vulnerability, usually only reserved for pets and doctors.

“Yeah,” said Mark, and he cleared his throat, not entirely sure what to do with his hands. “Yeah, it was, uh… it was great.”

“You’re such a weirdo,” said Jack, but he was grinning, and he leaned in, putting his hands on Mark’s shoulders, his fingers bunching in the fabric of Mark’s shirt.

He kissed Mark, still rank with morning breath, his facial hair rough against Mark’s own stubbly cheeks. 

“You like it,” Mark said, nervously, because he wasn’t sure if Jack actually did. 

He knew that Jack tolerated it, and he seemed to laugh at Mark’s weird sense of humor, but there is a huge difference between someone finding a good dad joke funny, and someone actively enjoying the weirder parts of their partner. 

“And you know it,” said Jack. 

He grabbed a double handful of Mark’s ass, and he squeezed it, hard enough that Mark moaned, his hips stuttering forward, smearing pre-cum across Jack’s tummy. 

Mark’s moans were echoing in Jack’s mouth, no doubt making the other man’s teeth vibrate, and then Jack was in the tub with him, pressing him into the wall, hands going to tangle in Mark’s hair. 

His hands were on top of Mark’s head, and he was pushing down, gently but with a very clear intentions. 

Mark got on his knees, even though he hated giving blow jobs in the bathtub, even though Jack had literally just peed.

Jack had a boner. 

It was already half hard, and it was beginning to swell as Mark breathed on it. 

“Well,” said Jack, looking down at him and smirking, “it ain’t gonna suck itself.”

Mark burst out laughing.

How could he not?

That was, quite possibly, the least sexy line, especially when Jack was trying to be sexy.

Jack, in and of himself, was very sexy - he had a nice body, a winning personality, and a dick that was so perfectly proportioned (at least, in Mark’s opinion) that painters the world over were deprived whenever he wore pants.

But Jack trying to sound sexy was… well, goofy.

“For fuck sake,” Jack said, but he sounded more amused than annoyed. 

“I’m sorry, you just… can’t pull that off,” said Mark, and he wrapped a loose hand around the head of Jack’s cock, not trying to pull his foreskin back, just squeezing it. 

He’d learned the hard way, not to just yank on things.

Jack had kicked him in the shoulder. 

He kissed the top of Jack’s cock, and then he took it into his mouth, carefully, trying not to think about the fact that Jack had just peed.

Because fuck it, he’d wiped off, and anyway, all human beings have always “just peed”, although if you thought too deeply about it, things got gross. 

So he wrapped his lips around the head of Jack’s cock, and he sucked, using his tongue and the rest of his mouth, beginning to take it down into the wet heat, as it swelled, Jack’s foreskin retracting. 

Mark slurped like he was eating a popsicle, drool beginning to drip down his chin, and he put his hands on Jack’s curvy hips, the tips of his fingers digging into Jack’s skin.

Jack whimpered, and that sent more throbbing straight to Mark’s dick, as he took in more, as Jack went fully hard.

Jack’s hands were tangled in Mark’s hair, tugging on it, and he was rocking his hips forward, gently fucking Mark’s mouth.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Jack said, and he was sagging against the wall. “You’re so fucking… oh fuck, how did you get so good at this?”

“I mean,” Mark said, pulling off of Jack’s cock and kissing along the shaft, gently, “I do suck you off at least three times a week.”

“That was rhetorical,” Jack muttered, tugging on Mark’s hair again. “C’mon, please. Please.”

“Please what?”

“See, this is why I make you suffer over the piss stuff,” said Jack. “Because you’re being an asshole about this shit.” 

“I am not.” 

“You’re supposed to be sucking my dick, not arguing with me over things.”

“You’re such a Dom, you should be able to get me to do it without arguing with me.”

And then Jack proceeded to grab Mark by the hair and pull him forwards, so that it was open his mouth or get a dick up the nose.

Mark took it all in. 

All of it, inch by agonizing inch, swallowing it, choking a little. 

He gagged around the thickness of it, and Jack moaned theatrically. 

“You feel so good Mark, holy shit,” he said, and he was pushing himself in deeper, until the curly hair right under his navel was pressing against Mark's nose.

He just held Mark there, thrusting shallowly, not leaving Mark's mouth, just moving his cock around. 

Mark's eyes were streaming, and drool was collecting down his chin, to splash on the bottom of the bath. 

Jack's cock was getting thicker, and his heartbeat was right up against Mark's tongue. It was getting harder, like marble with a heartbeat, as he sucked and sucked, until salty, bitter slime was hitting the back of his throat, and he was pulling back, coughing. 

His throat was raw, the way it always was after a good throat fucking, and he savored it like the tingles after an orgasm. 

“You've gotten really good at that,” Jack said, and he was smiling at Mark, his expression soft. 

“You give me plenty of practice,” Mark told Jack. “I would be worried if I hadn't gotten better by now!”

“I mean,” Jack said, his expression sly, “You were pretty good from the get go.”

“So you're saying that my innate talent isn't making videos or having a sexy, sexy voice. It's cock sucking.”

“A person can have more than one talent,” Jack said, his tone a bit defensive. Then he grinned. “Although I'm sure cock sucking is one of your top three….”

“What would my other two be?”

“Sucking at video games,” said Jack. “So it's kinda like sucking cock!”

Mark rolled his eyes, and he stood up. His cock was still hard, and pressed against his belly. 

“Jack?”

“Hm?”

“Can I… can I cum?”

“I dunno, Jack said. “Can you?” 

Mark gave him a Look. 

“No,” said Jack. “You don't get to cum, since you made such a mess.”

Mark stared down at his feet, blushing so hard that his ears were getting hot. 

“Now,” said Jack. “How about we rinse off and eat breakfast. Well, second breakfast for you.”

“What am I, a hobbit?”

“You already swallowed my cum,” Jack pointed out. “That's gotta have some nutritional value, right?”

“Oh my god, Jack,” Mark groaned, and he covered his face with both hands. “I can't believe you just said that.”

“What?!” Jack held his hands up in defense. “Doesn't it have protein?”

“A good breakfast isn't just protein,” Mark said, in a lecturing tone. 

“Well, yeah, but you do consume a lot of it.” He chuckled. “Maybe you should suck my cock after each workout….”

Mark kissed Jack, his erection hot and desperate against Jack's belly. 

Jack was grinning as he kissed Mark back - he didn't even complain about Mark's breath. 

* * * 

The day proceeded… pretty normally. 

They gamed all day - Jack kept giving Mark extra drinks, but Mark had a cast iron bladder, or so he liked to think. 

He was squirming in his seat by two in the afternoon, and he caught sight of the way that Jack was watching. 

He tried to stay still, because… well, this shit was embarrassing. 

_Super_ embarrassing. 

He was also hard enough that be wouldn't have been able to pee anyway. 

“You doing okay there, Mark?” Jack fiddled with his controller, and on screen, Bowser shot a fireball at Princess Peach. 

“Fine,” Mark said, and he might have been gritting his teeth a bit, but Jack didn't need to know that, right?

“How about I get you another glass of water?”

“You do that,” Mark said thickly. 

* * *

An hour (and three glasses of water) later, Mark was sitting with his legs pressed together, rocking. 

The pressure in his bladder was ridiculous, and his boner was equally ridiculous - the desperation was mixing with the arousal, leaving him shaking. 

He lost three rounds of Smash in a row, and he didn't care. 

Jack put his controller down, and he scooted closer to Mark, one hand going to the other man's stomach. 

“How badly do you need to go?” 

Jack's voice was breathy, and when Mark glanced down, he saw that Jack had an erection straining against the fabric of his pants. 

“So bad,” Mark said, and he moaned, a guttural sound that crawled out of his throat, wriggling from his mouth like some kind of insect with too many legs. 

“What'll you do, if I let you pee?”

“I don't know it I want to pee or if I want to cum,” Mark said, desperation making him candid. “I would say it's about fifty-fifty.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack's hand went to Mark's belly, and then he was pressing down on it, hard, and Mark made a strangled noise. 

“Jack, if you do that I'm gonna piss on the couch,” he warned. 

“What, even with the boner?”

“Yeah,” said Mark. 

“I thought you couldn't pee if you had an erection.”

“You can if it's forced out of you,” Mark said through gritted teeth. 

They had kinda lost the sexiness of the scene, but maybe that was for the best. 

If he pissed the couch it would be a pain in the ass to clean, and even the fun fetish bits of it wasn't worth those repercussions.

“You _did_ prove that you can't be trusted to hold your bladder,” Jack said, his voice slippery. 

“I can totally be trusted to hold my bladder, when I'm not being shoved out of bed,” Mark said. 

“So stop wriggling and just hold it,” said Jack sharply. “Since you're so sure you can do it, I mean.”

“I'm gonna pee soon,” said Mark. “Can I go to the bathroom? Please?”

“First we need to get you off the couch,” Jack said, his tone sing song. “Think you can do that without letting go?”

Mark groaned, and his cock throbbed like a rotten tooth in his pants. 

“I kinda have to, don’t I?”

“You have to pay for the couch if you pee on it,” said Jack. 

“We won’t have to replace the couch,” Mark said. 

“Well, okay, yeah, but you’re gonna have to pay for it to be cleaned.”

Mark stood up, carefully, and his knees pressed together, grabbing between his legs and squeezing. 

“You’re gonna have to walk to the bathroom,” Jack pointed out. 

He sounded a bit like he was trying not to start laughing, which was… okay, that wasn’t fair, and it was… it was massively unfair.

His brain was having trouble formulating words. 

Or even higher functions, really. 

“Tell me how bad you have to go, Mark,” Jack said thickly.

“So bad,” Mark mumbled.

“You’re gonna stand here for five minutes,” Jack told Mark, and he pointed to the clock that was hanging over the stove, right in view of the living room. “I’m gonna go set something up, and then you can go to the bathroom, okay?”

“Five minutes?”

“Would you rather I made it ten?”

“No, no,” Mark said hurriedly. 

“So you’re gonna ask me nicely, right?”

“Right,” said Mark.

“So?” Jack stood there, tapping his foot. 

“Please, may I go to the bathroom in five minutes?”

“Please who?”

“Please… sir,” said Mark. 

“Good boy,” said Jack, and he patted Mark on the cheek, condescending as all hell.

Mark resisted the urge to glare at him.

* * * 

Jack went out of view, and then there were quiet “someone is moving about the house” noises. 

Mark tried not to move.

Tried not to think.

Just bit his lip and stared at the clock, squeezing his dick in his hands, his belly throbbing in time with his heart, his cock desperate between his legs. 

* * * 

The hands of the clock moved, slowly, infinitesimally, until it had finally been five minutes, and then he was almost _running_ , straight to the bathroom.

To find Jack leaning against door, his arms crossed across his chest, his expression amused.

“How you doing?”

“If you wouldn’t mind stepping aside?”

“I dunno,” said Jack. “I’m comfortable.”

“You can be just as comfortable against the wall,” Mark said, aware his tone was desperate, aware that a few drips of piss were beginning to drip down his leg.

“Is that how you’re gonna talk to me?”

“I’m sorry,” Mark said, through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna explode if you don’t let me into that bathroom.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” said Jack. “It’d be hard to clean. You know how hard it is to get blood off a ceiling?”

Mark snickered, and a little spurt of piss came out of him, which made him grab himself harder, whimpering quietly. 

“Oh god,” he groaned.

“You don’t need to call me “god,” I’m just Sir,” said Jack.

Mark gave him a Look.

Jack grabbed a handful of Mark’s hair, and he yanked on it.

Mark groaned, and he bit his lip, pressing his thighs closer together, trying to think, trying to maintain his dignity, but who the fuck cared, when he was going to die of needing to piss.

“You _will_ show me respect,” said Jack, and Mark was now on his knees, sobbing, biting his lip, as he began to get horny.

Goddamn it. 

Jack shoved his crotch into Mark’s face, his cock already hard.

“Another blowjob?” Mark stared up at Jack, one eyebrow up. “Aren’t we getting a bit repetitive?”

“What can I say?” Jack pulled his dick out of his pants, and he stroked it, from root to tip, pulling his foreskin back.

He was already hard, almost purple in how flushed he was. 

“I dunno,” said Mark. “What can you say?”

“I can say that it’s super fucking hot when you’re this desperate,” Jack said, and he held on to the back of Mark’s head with one hand, holding his dick with his other.

Mark was now too hard to pee.

Was this a good thing? 

A bad thing?

It throbbed, but at the same time, he wasn’t going to piss himself, which was a bonus.

He groaned, and Jack outlined his lips with the wet head of his cock. 

“Your blowies are amazing,” Jack told Mark.

“Don’t call them blowies,” said Mark. “It makes me feel like I’m blowing Dan.”

“What, you wouldn’t want to blow Dan?”

Jack held his cock back, and then he let it go.

It hit Mark’s face wetly, and Mark made an alarmed noise.

“Did you just -”

“I asked you a question,” Jack said sharply.

“I mean,” Mark said, aware his voice was a bit weak. “Who _wouldn’t_ want to blow Dan. He’s pretty gorgeous.”

“His cock would be nothing like mine,” said Jack.

“You think you’re that much bigger than he is?”

“He’s Jewish,” Jack pointed out, looking amused.

“So?”

“... I’m just gonna stick my dick in your mouth before you say anything else stupid,” said Jack, and he suited actions to words.

Mark choked, his throat working, and he drooled down his chin, cautiously letting go of his dick to hold on to Jack’s hips, to keep Jack from forcing dick down his throat.

He began to suck, bobbing his head. 

Jack moaned, sagging back against the wall and widening his stance, 

He thrust forward, ignoring Mark’s hand, just fucking Mark’s face, taking his pleasure from the warmth of Mark’s mouth.

It was… it was a lot like they had been doing in the shower, but when you thought about it too hard, all sexual things are just retreads, all _words_ were just retreads, all thoughts, all….

Jack wrenched at Mark’s hair, and Mark yelped, then moaned, as Jack cupped his cheek.

“Are you okay?” 

Jack’s face was full of concern.

There was something wet on Mark’s face - dripping down his cheeks, sliding along to his neck.

Jack cupped Mark cheek, tugging Mark off of his dick, and Mark sucked on Jack’s thumb, as it was passed over his lips.

“Mark, you’re crying,” Jack said. “Is this too much?”

“No,” Mark said thickly. “No, it’s… it’s good. I mean, it’s okay. I like it. I like how… intense it is.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to keep being mean to you?”

“Yeah,” said Mark, and he licked his lips. “I really like it.”

“Okay,” said Jack. “You ready to continue?”

Mark nodded fervently.

“Open up,” said Jack, and he grabbed Mark’s hair again.

Mark did as instructed, and he just… sucked. 

He sucked Jack’s dick like it was the only thing he could do, and the inside of his head was so quiet that he didn’t even pay attention to the desperation between his legs, he just let himself be a thing.

A thing that didn’t need to pee, a thing that wasn’t aroused, a thing that didn’t gag, a thing that was just there to be fucked.

Jack pulled out of Mark’s mouth, after who knew how much time, and he aimed his cock at Mark’s face.

Mark stared up at Jack, puzzled, because he had been doing a good job, hadn’t he? 

He’d been making Jack feel good.

And now Jack’s dick was right in front of him, the head wet and almost purple, still drooling down the shaft, dripping onto the floor. 

There was cum coming out of it, Mark noted, in a distant sort of way. 

There was cum on his face. It was striped across his nose, dripping down his cheek, to his shirt. 

He was more concerned with Jack's face - Jack did the most amazing things with his face, when he came. It… opened up, for lack of a better way of putting it, and he became so enraptured that it reminded Mark of those old pictures of angels. 

… wow, he was far gone if he was comparing Jack's orgasm face to paintings of angels. 

“Fuck, that was good,” Jack mumbled, and his toes were curled on the hardwood. 

“I live to please,” Mark murmured. 

“I know,” said Jack, and he gave Mark a grin that bordered on feral. 

“So can I go to the bathroom now? I really need to piss.”

“Judging by the tent in your pants, you need to cum more,” said Jack. 

Mark looked down, and indeed, his jeans were tented. How about that?

“So which do you want more? Do you need to piss, or do you need to cum?”

“... yes,” said Mark. 

“That's not the right answer for that question,” Jack said, his voice grumpy. 

“I mean,” said Mark, “I need both of them pretty desperately.”

“Choose one,” snapped Jack. 

“Um. I need to… I need….”

“If you don't decide within the next five seconds, I'm gonna decide for you,” Jack warned. 

“Piss. I need to piss.”

“So piss,” said Jack. 

“I _can't_ ,” Mark whined 

It was true.

He was too hard. He'd need an orgasm or a really cold shower to get his dick down, and he was going to die.

Jack shoved his leg between Mark's thighs, his shin pressed against Mark's over sensitive dick. 

Mark cried out, his hips curling forward, humping Jack's leg like some kind of animal. 

Jack laughed. 

“You’re just a desperate little thing, aren't you?” Jack's voice was teasing. “You don't even know what you want, do you? Or do you just want everything?”

Jack relaxed against the wall, and he was still smirking. 

“You know what?”

Mark looked up at Jack, clinging to Jack's thigh, squeezing as tightly as he could as he humped, the denim rough against his dick. 

His belly was still pounding, and his dick was twitching. He was at a level of desperation that was beyond humanity - he was in pain, he was full of arousal, and it was all there was to it. 

“I know what I want,” said Jack, and he was holding his dick again.

Mark found his voice.

“Do you want me to suck you some more?”

“No,” said Jack. 

He aimed his cock at the top of Mark's head, and his stance widened. 

Mark went back to humping Jack's leg, because that was all he needed right now, and who gave a fuck about anything else?

And then there was something hot and wet trickling, then flowing, across the top of his head.  
“Seeing you that desperate reminded me of how much I needed to piss,” Jack said casually, as if he wasn't pissing across the top of Mark's head. 

The piss was hot, dripping down around Mark's face, then down his chin, his temples, soaking into his hair and running along his scalp. 

He came.

He didn't have a choice - as soon as his brain registered what was happening, his penis twitched in his jeans, and then he was cumming like a goddamn geyser, soaking into his jeans. 

And then he was pissing - he couldn't stop it if he tried. 

The two things were just happening at the same time, leaving his toes curling, different types of relief twined together like a braid, leaving him shuddering and spent, his face pressed into Jack's upper thigh. 

There was a hand on his head, and he looked up, startled. 

“Hey,” said Jack, and he smiled. “Are you okay?”

Mark nodded, suddenly shy. 

They were no longer in the throes of passion. He was still coming down, his cock twitching feebly, his hands shaking. 

“I'm gonna take my pants off,” Jack said, “and I'm gonna wipe my feet off on them, and then I'm gonna get a garbage bag so we can bring it all to the washing machine without leaking, okay?”

Mark nodded, mute.

The inside of his head was quiet - quiet enough to deafen, and he was absorbing those feelings, trying to figure out if he even had any feelings right now. 

* * *

Jack came back, bottomless, and he urged Mark to stand up, then helped him out of his way clothes.

He led Mark into the bathtub 

“Can you stay there for like… five minutes while I get some stuff sorted out?” Jack cupped Mark's face, heedless of the drying piss. 

Mark nodded.

“Can you talk right now?”

Mark shrugged. 

“Well, I'll be right back,” said Jack. 

* * *

Mark was quiet through the shower, letting Jack fuss over him and wash him. 

He was quiet as he tried off, as he got dressed. 

It wasn't until he was lying on the bed, his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, that Mark's thoughts began to make a bit more sense, and to go in something approaching an orderly manner. 

Jack was lying next to him, looking something like nervous, fiddling with his phone.

"Hey," said Mark, his voice quiet.

"Hi," said Jack, and he rolled onto his side, so that he was looking at Jack. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Mark. "It was just, like... super intense."

"In a good way?"

"Oh, yeah," said Mark. "But kinda like... hmm."

"Hm?"

"I've been having fantasies like that for, like, ages -"

"What, with me?"

"You're a recent addition," Mark allowed, "but I've been imagining that kinda thing for... well, ever. And now I've just done it, and part of my brain isn't sure what it feels like, because the thing we never thought would happen... happened."

"Did you not want it to happen?" 

Jack sounded nervous.

Mark rolled onto his side, and he spread his arms open, so that Jack could cuddle up to him.

"Far from it," he said, into Jack's hair, as Jack snuggled up to him. "But, like... getting used to being a person who just did that. An actual kinky fuck, or something like that."

"Oh," said Jack. "Yeah, I think I get it."

"Do you have any kinks like that?"

"What, kinda unsanitary?"

"Or just stuff you've been thinking about since before?"

"I've got a few," Jack said, "but I think... I wanna spend more time with this one, before we start exploring something else."

"Yeah?" Mark shot Jack a concerned look. "It's been all about my weird kink. I don't want you to feel like we can't explore your no doubt equally weird stuff as well."

"We will," Jack said, his tone reassuring. "But I kinda wanna just comfort you right now, if that's okay?"

"I don't think I _need_ comforting," Mark said. 

"Well, I do," said Jack, and he laughed, sounding nervous. "I like the weird kinky shit as much as the next... weird, kinky person, but I literally just peed on your head."

"I'm not bothered by it," Mark pointed out. "I liked it. Obviously. I mean, I came in my pants."

"Well, yeah, but like...." Jack groaned, and covered his face with both hands. "I'm sorry. I'm shit at this."

"You're doing okay," Mark told him. "I promise."

"Peeing on someone is kinda... gross. And it's kinda degrading, and I dunno if I wanna degrade you."

Mark's heart sank.

"If you don't wanna do that again -"

"That's not what I meant," Jack said quickly. "I mean, like... consensual degrading? Fucking awesome. I wanna keep doing that as long as I can get a boner. Because holy fuck, you _face_...."

Mark chuckled, self conscious, but pleased that Jack wanted to keep it up. 

"But, like, looking back, it can be kinda hard to differentiate between consensual degrading and actually degrading." Jack's hands were over his face again, and his voice was muffled. "To an outsider, it would look like I really just disrespected you."

Mark sighed, and he took Jack's hands in his own, kissing each of his palms.

"It's okay," he told Jack. "I don't care about what it would look like to an outsider, I don't care about any of that, I just want to do things with you that are fun. Whether it's you peeing on me, or me dressing you up in pink frilly clothes -"

"That's a thing for you?" Jack looked surprised.

"... I mean, it might be," Mark said, after a moment's pause. "But, uh, I was more trying to think of something that would look weird to someone who wasn't us."

"Oh," said Jack, and he looked sheepish. "Yeah, that makes sense.”

"So regardless of how it looks," Mark said, "as long as we're both consenting, we're good."

"We're both consenting," Jack said.

"We're both consenting," Mark echoed.

"So we're good."

"We're totally good."

Mark leaned in, and he kissed Jack on the mouth.

Jack kissed him back, and the anxiety that had been building in Mark's belly abated. 

He sighed, all the way from his toes, and he relaxed into the bed. 

That had been a lot of fun, and now it was time to actually recover from it. 

* * * 

Two weeks later, Jack bought a plastic sheet.

He didn't even say anything about it - Mark just went to lie down, and the bed crinkled.

“Jack?”

Jack poked his head out of the bathroom, his mouth foaming with toothpaste. 

“What’s up with the bed?” 

Mark poked it.

Jack held up a finger, then went to spit out his mouthful.

“I got a plastic sheet,” he told Mark. “Since I can’t really trust you not to piss yourself.”

Mark blushed.

“That was for a scene,” he pointed out.

“Well, okay, yes, it was for a scene, but maybe I wanna do a scene on the bed,” said Jack.

“Oh,” said Mark, and he laughed, a bit self conscious. “That seems super obvious, now that you mention it.”

“A lot of things do,” Jack said. 

“Do you wanna do a scene, like, right now?”

“No way,” said Jack. “I just changed the sheets.”

Mark snorted, and he flopped onto the bed. 

It crinkled.

* * * 

Jack slept on the plastic sheets like a champ, because of course he did.

Mark slept fitfully, and he had odd dreams.

He woke up with a boner that was worse than usual, and Jack had already gotten started working.

With a sigh, he shoved his hand in his pants, remembering the feel of Jack’s piss splashing down his face.

He came across his stomach in record time, and he shuddered, then flopped back onto the bed.

It crinkled.

* * * 

It was a day later.

Well, more accurately, it was an evening later.

Mark was kissing Jack.

Mark was on top of Jack, and they were grinding against each other, and Mark was whimpering, because Jack had texted him earlier in the day, and told him to hold it.

So he was holding it.

He had even drunk extra, to make the hold more… exciting. 

He wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good idea or not, but fuck it. 

Or rather, fuck Jack. 

Or be fucked by Jack. 

Jack fucking would be involved. 

He was chasing his tail, and he knew it, but he was also kissing Jack, and if he lost himself in kissing, he might get too much of a boner, and then he wouldn’t be able to piss, and that would… suck. 

A lot.

“I want to be inside of you,” Jack said, his forehead against Mark’s, their lips whispering together. “I want to feel you tremble while I fucking… _pound_ you.” 

“Y-yeah?” 

“I want you to ride me,” Jack said, and his hand was going down, towards Mark’s ass.

Mark had lost his pants at some point, and was just in boxers. 

“So you like that idea?” 

“Yeah,” said Mark, panting heavily, as Jack grabbed his ass again.

“Go get the condoms and the lube,” he told Mark, and he shoved the pillows off of the bed.

* * * 

And then Mark was riding Jack’s fingers.

There had to be other stuff happening before that - Jack’s dick had a condom on it already, and Jack’s fingers were lubed up. 

So there had to be a bit in the middle, right?

But there wasn’t. 

Mark, his bladder full enough that he bet that Jack could see it, ground down against Jack’s fingers, as they curled and uncurled, pressing against his prostate, which made his cock leak more, which made him groan and moan, humping back against Jack’s hand, making wanton little noises as he squeezed down on Jack’s fingers. 

“That’s it,” Jack crooned, as Mark began to really roll his hips, his head thrown back. “C’mon, gimme a show….”

Mark ran his hands across his chest, pausing at his nipples to rub them special, and he shuddered around Jack’s fingers and humped harder, panting with his mouth wide open. 

“Fuck, Jack, you feel so good,” Mark whined, and then there was another finger inside of him, three fingers that were curling and pressing into him, making him gasp, whine, his knees digging into Jack’s sides. 

He had to pee.

He had to cum.

He was beginning to get a boner whenever he had to pee, which was not exactly helpful, especially when he was in a hurry.

“You ready for my dick?” 

The head of Jack’s dick was prodding Mark’s balls, gently, and Mark didn’t want to stop riding Jack’s fingers, he just wanted to stay here for as long as possible, riding out the lovely sensations, trying not to cum already.

His own cock was drooling pre down the shaft, puddling along his groin, pasting down his pubic hair with more slime. 

“I’m ready,” Mark rasped. “ _Please_!” 

“Very good,” said Jack, and he yanked his fingers out, pulling the glove off and tossing it, inside out, to the floor.

He held his cock straight, and Mark brought himself down onto it, carefully.

He moaned, clenching a bit around Jack’s cock, because it was so _thick_ , and it filled him so well.

“Fuck,” Jack said thickly. “I forgot how good you feel inside, I gotta do this more often, holy fuck, Mark….”

“We do this… pretty often,” Mark panted.

His cock was beginning to go soft, which it sometimes did when he was penetrated, and okay, no, that wasn’t a thing that he could deal with right now, he needed to be hard, because if he wasn’t hard he’d probably piss all over Jack.

He grabbed his dick, squeezing it, but Jack grabbed his hand, forcing it away.

“I want you to piss on me,” he told Mark.

“What, right now?”

“Yeah,” said Jack. “Right now.”

“Like, actually piss on you?”

“Actually piss on me.”

“On the bed?”

“Yes, on the bed. We’ve got the sheet down,” said Jack. “C’mon. Do it. Do it _now_!” 

He let go of Mark’s hand, to press down on Mark’s belly, and Mark sobbed, as he was more or less forced to let go.

He pissed across Jack’s chest, hard enough that the spray got on his own chest, as it came off of Jack’s in streams, then down his sides, soaking into the sheets.

“Fuck,” Mark whined, as he kept pissing - there was just so much, so much of it that he had been holding, and it seemed like Jack was shoving more out of him, as he humped forward.

Jack moaned, staring up at him in rapture. 

“Your face,” he murmured, and he began to thrust upwards in earnest, going deeper, holding on to Mark’s hips. “Holy fuck, your face, it does this thing, I don’t even know what it is, but I can’t get enough of it, it’s almost like your orgasm face!”

“R-r-really?”

A good orgasm was almost as amazing as a good piss, admittedly. 

“You get tighter, too. Like, you relax all around me, then clench up.” 

Jack looked down at his own chest, and he laughed, putting a hand on his own chest.

It splashed a little bit.

“You made me a mess, Mark,” he said, in a semi-scolding tone. “You’re gonna make up for that, right?”

“Right,” Mark said. 

He was getting hard again - now that the desperation to piss was gone, his arousal was a lot easier to deal with.

It wasn’t all mixed up in his head, thank god, because he didn’t need to end up with a complex about that.

“Ride me,” Jack told Mark. “Ride me like a fucking… mechanical bull.”

“So hold onto your shoulders and pray for death?”

“How would you know what riding a mechanical bull is like?” Jack looked surprised, and slightly pulled out of his sexy headspace. 

“I’ve done it, in my… adventurous youth,” said Mark.

“Did you ride dick in your adventurous youth?”

“Well, no,” said Mark.

“So ride me like you were… an adventurous youth? I don’t know.” Jack snickered, then burst out laughing. 

“I don’t know what I would have ridden dick like, as a youth,” Mark said. 

“Well, then ride it like you were yourself,” said Jack, and he sounded cross. 

Mark clenched around Jack, and he rolled his hips, beginning to get hard again. 

“Anything for you, sir,” Mark said, in his most sickeningly sweet voice, as he began to ride him seriously, and Jack’s hand was on Mark’s cock, and Jack was moaning, panting, his face turning red, all the way up to his ears.

“I like it when you talk to me like that,” said Jack. “Keep it up, please!”

“I… love your cock, sir, I love it, it’s so big, please keep fucking me with it.”

“After you pissed all over it?”

“I mean, I didn’t piss on your cock,” Mark pointed out, breathless.

“Oh my god, Mark,” Jack groaned, and he flipped them over.

Mark was on his back, his legs akimbo, and a few drops of piss were dripping down onto his stomach as Jack began to thrust into him, circling his hips, fucking Mark into the mattress. 

“Fuck,” Mark groaned, and he squeezed down on the cock inside of him, his own cock pressed into Jack’s belly.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard,” Jack said, and he was suiting actions to words, his dick as far inside as it would go, then drawing nearly all the way out.

Mark sobbed - he was wet and sticky with piss - the _bed_ was wet and sticky with piss - and everything was pissy, everything was overwhelming, everything was just more, and it would have been too much, except his orgasm was mounting.

Jack came first.

His face went rapturous, and his cock swelled and throbbed inside of Mark, and then he was jerking Mark off harder, almost in a frenzy, and Mark was cumming across his belly, his chest, sweat, piss, and cum mingling, leaving him limp and panting, sobbing quietly.

“Christ, you turn into a vice when you cum,” Jack said, pulling his dick carefully out of Mark in a gush of fluids.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” mumbled Mark, his eyes sliding shut.

“You gonna be okay?”

“In a sec,” Mark said. 

He pulled Jack closer, Jack’s head on his chest, and he rubbed Jack’s hair.

“Was that good?” Jack sounded nervous.

“It was fucking excellent,” Mark said.

“That’s good,” said Jack.

“Although what about the sheets being newly clean?”

“They’re not newly clean anymore,” Jack said, drowsy.

“No? It’s only been like two days.”

“Still,” said Jack. 

Mark yawned.

“We’re gonna have to do the laundry.”

“In a minute,” Mark said, and he snuggled Jack closer to him.

So they did weird kinky shit.

But at least they did it together.

That had to count for something, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic? Check out my tumblr - theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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